dear _:

these days pass like waves pelted into the sand. some moments pass as soon as they arrive, and others dwell in an eternal waiting room. i cannot wait but i cannot go.

i read an article on orson welles over lunch with dad and a horchata, that moment of pure punctum in citizen kane when a snowglobe tumbles down the stairs. it is a blizzard ( Read more... )

I used to think something might be wrong with my heart, and that one day it might stop altogether, maybe while I slept. I guess it is only a symptom of longing ( Read more... )

one hundred years of solitude
written on the body
the kite runner
a million little pieces

norweigian wood
atonement
on the road
the namesake
love in the time of cholera
blink: the power of thinking without thinking
mark strand poetry

The Young Man came to the Old Man seeking counsel ( Read more... )

E-pro, Beck ( Read more... )

'And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass'

Ezra Pound

to do ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

5 minute fudge ( Read more... )

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz ( Read more... )